modern ghosts
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: SBNY!Verse. Remember, remember the fifth of November. —Suigetsu-centric.


Yes, this is in '_sincerely but never yours'_ universe. If you don't know what SBNY is, it is a collab Sara, Sonya and I did two years ago. It is at our collab account, _Alive in Wonderland_, it is 45 chapters long, over 10k each chapter and it is complete.

This was written in honor of the date, which became sort of canon since SBNY. In which Sui's mother (an OC) died from breast cancer.

With that, read on, and let's honor those beautiful people we've lost from fighting this battle. ❤

**modern ghosts  
**

.

It was always cloudy and foggy at this time of year. This date, this day, this number that haunted Suigetsu even in his sleep.

Its stamped red inside his eyelids, burned into his brain and carved on his veins. It could be his birthday, and all he can think about was this date—months upon months away, yet still plaguing his existence like the disease it was. A week before the date and he was already binge drinking. But alcohol was beginning to fail at numbing the pain.

Suigetsu sat at the edge of his bed in the bedroom he'd had for his entire life, twirled the bottle of vodka around his fingers and stared, but there was nothing to stare at.

.

.

.

He could hear a heartbeat but he wished it wasn't his.

His eyes scrunched up as sleep began to wear off. He was still drunk, he could feel it—the remnants of the stupor he'd put himself in the night before. The world was dark and Suigetsu liked it that way; he could hear the rain against the window and it sounded like the serenade—the last serenade he'd paid for his mother.

Badum, badum, badum, badum.

Suigetsu rolled over and stared at the ceiling. On the nightstand, his phone blinked—messages and missed phone calls and emails and nothing he really cared about. He wanted to be dead to the world for this entire week.

It was November third.

.

.

.

He walked around the house in the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past few days, pressing his shoulder against the cool wall and dragging himself around, forcefully because that's how everything worked nowadays. Someone had been by, today; he hadn't been awake to notice.

But they took the bottles of rum.

It was probably Sasuke.

Or Kiba.

Or Naruto.

It was probably Naruto.

(_You're not even supposed to __**have**__ these, you asshole, you're, like, sixteen! My mom's going to kill you if she finds out._)

Suigetsu rolled his head and looked around at his living room. There were portraits around there, they were placed face down because Suigetsu didn't want to see them. The ones on the walls were turned around and—and, wow, he hadn't really changed anything since she left.

He didn't know if it was because he didn't have the strength or because putting things away would make everything a reality.

Touching and moving things would scream at him:

SHE'S GONE SHE'S GONE SHE'S NOT COMING BACK YOU LOST HER YOU'RE ALL ALONE YOU'RE PATHETIC

And he was.

Suigetsu sighed and stared at the four on the calendar.

.

.

.

He was already crying before he was even awake.

His body had memorized the entire thing, rewinding back after it happened just to pause it and wait for it to be the perfect time to replay. His pillow was soaked and just as he lifted his head up, he felt arms encircle around him in a mother's embrace and his spirits went up—his heart stuttered and his brain gave a devastating pulse as he sat up, his violet eyes lighting up and—

"Ma'?!"

But the sob that responded wasn't his mother and Suigetsu accepted the harsh truth that the mother hugging him wasn't his. So he clung to her, her red hair painting his world red as he threw his pride away and sobbed against her collarbones and allowed the mantra to begin.

'Remember, remember the fifth of November!'

.

.

.

By noon, he was dressed in black and had gathered his composure.

His eyes were puffy and red and his nose was pink and his cheeks were carved with dried salty tear trails. He was seated in the back of the SUV in between Kiba and Sasuke and Neji as Naruto sat on the passenger's seat and Kushina drove them to the cemetery.

It was quiet.

And none of his friends held it against him if he broke down, again. But Suigetsu just wanted a moment of peace because once he was exposed to the tombstone, he was going to shatter. So he sat there and stared at nothing at all, listening to the calm breathing of his friends and pretended there weren't side glances thrown at him.

.

.

.

They walked up the hill in silence.

The boys held a rose each and Kushina had a small bouquet. But Suigetsu didn't carry anything with him because flowers would eventually die and he had this thing—this fear, this phobia of things dying and leaving. Because if he bought her flowers and they died, his mother would be alone just like he was and he didn't want to add to the cycle of loneliness.

His heart gave a slow metronome.

Badum.

Badum.

Badum.

Badum.

At some point, he let himself bring up the rear. His steps were slow and hesitant, like an inmate walking down death row. He watched as his friends bent over and placed their individual roses upon her grave, Kushina following after. He watched them do a quick prayer, watched them caress the tombstone.

He watched them move away.

That was his queue.

Suigetsu walked forwards and dropped down to his knees.

And he broke.

.

.

.

"I haven't touched anything 'cuz everything reminds me of you.

I wish you didn't leave.

Part of me wants to hate you. Why didn't you ever tell me—I would've behaved! I would've acted better! I wouldn'a done that stupid thing and gotten myself into juvy. I would'a been there for you. I bet you looked really beautiful when your hair fell out. I bet you did it on purpose—handled it all alone.

It makes me so angry—it—you _pissed me off_.

You _left_ me!

You _knew_ you were gonna leave me—the least you coulda done was let me… be with you…

I wish I could hate you, Ma'.

But I love you so much, it hurts.

Because you're gone.

And I can't see you laugh at me for bein' short and stupid. And you can't bake me cakes anymore and that promise we made when you visited me at the 'stution was broken. Coz we never baked the cake together. You… you'll never see me get my act together and I just…

…I just…

…I just r-really miss you, Ma'.

I'm sorry."


End file.
